Chapter 300: Chapter 236: Physical Authorization and Entrapment
Celestial Craft Group, No. 3 Research Institute, Office of the Deputy Chief Engineer.
A few rays of the setting sun pierced through the gaps in the blinds, slicing the room into alternating stripes of light and shadow.
Li Mo stood before the window, watching the menacing motorcade disappear in a cloud of dust. The corner of his mouth curled into an imperceptible, cold smirk.
He raised a hand to adjust his glasses, then turned and walked into the office’s private restroom, locking the door behind him.
Taking out an unmarked black communicator, Li Mo proficiently entered a complex string of garbled code.
The screen flickered twice, and a line of text appeared: [The fish has left the water.]
A few seconds later, a message came back:
[Understood. He’s asking for death, which saves us the trouble.
Go into Silence immediately. Stay with the project team for the next few days. Do not go out, and do not make any further contact until this blows over.]
Li Mo replied with a [Yes], then his fingers flew across the screen, activating the self-destruct sequence.
The communicator emitted a faint ZZT sound as its internal chip fried instantly, turning it into a useless piece of metal.
He tossed the piece of metal into the toilet and pressed the flush button, watching the vortex swallow it.
Lifting his head, Li Mo looked at himself in the mirror.
The face that was usually gentle, refined, and even a little timid was now slightly twisted with excitement.
"A genius?"
He straightened his tie in the mirror and muttered to himself:
"A dead genius is just a pile of rotting meat."
’Once Han Feng dies out there, even if the Parliament investigates, they’ll only trace it back to the material suppliers he offended, or to the hidden Evil Cultists.’
’What does that have to do with me, Li Mo?’
’I’m just a diligent, hardworking, and even slightly timid Deputy Chief Engineer, that’s all.’
Composing his expression, Li Mo opened the restroom door, sat back down at his desk, and picked up a document to read as if nothing had happened at all.
...
Sky Rainbow Material Reserve Center.
This was the largest logistics hub in the East Sea City West District. It was currently the evening rush hour, and the entrance was bustling with traffic.
A dark green, all-terrain troop carrier ignored the security guards trying to block it, screeching to a halt and parking sideways directly in front of the glass doors to the main office building.
The door was kicked open.
Han Feng jumped out of the vehicle, a metal crowbar he had swiped from the truck in his hand.
Behind him, twelve Garrison Army soldiers, armed with live ammunition, filed out one by one. The dark muzzles of their guns were aimed directly at the security guards who were attempting to surround them.
"Who’s in charge here?" Han Feng asked.
The security captain looked at the menacing soldiers, swallowed hard, and pointed inside.
"Manager... Manager Liu is at window number three."
Han Feng nodded and strode inside, crowbar in hand.
In the main hall, the portly manager who had given Zhou Ming a hard time earlier was packing up, ready to go home.
He was humming a little tune and stuffing his headphones into his bag, still savoring the look on that poor kid from the Outer City’s face when he was thwarted.
’The feeling of holding someone else’s fate in his hands... it’s just so damn good.’
BANG!
A loud noise came from the bulletproof glass window.
The fat man jumped in fright, nearly dropping the thermos in his hand.
He looked up to see an impossibly young face pressed against the glass, smiling cheerfully at him.
"Who the hell is that?! You got a death wish?"
Just as the fat man was about to lash out, he suddenly saw the metal crowbar in the person’s hand and the line of soldiers standing behind him.
The fat man’s heart skipped a beat.
Before he could react, Han Feng had already gone around to the side door.
With a CLANG, the lock on the door was violently pried open.
Han Feng walked in and, without a word, grabbed the fat man by his tie and dragged him out of his seat like a dead dog.
"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing! We live in a society with laws!"
The fat man struggled desperately, his two short legs kicking wildly.
Han Feng dragged him to the center of the hall and kicked him in the back of the knee.
The fat man fell to his knees with a THUD.
"So you’re the one who said my signature was no good?"
Han Feng crouched down and slapped the crumpled approval form against the fat man’s face.
The fat man saw who it was, and his face instantly turned pale. "You... You’re that advisor..."
SLAP!
A crisp, loud slap echoed.
Half of the fat man’s face swelled up instantly, and even his molars felt loose.
"I’m asking you, do you recognize this signature now?" Han Feng asked.
"I... I recognize it..."
SLAP!
Another backhanded slap followed.
"You recognize it, but you wouldn’t process it? So you were intentionally giving me a hard time?"
"N-no... It’s... it’s the procedure..."
SLAP!
After the third slap, the fat man’s mouth was full of blood. He saw stars, and his head was ringing.
"What procedure requires a specific font? Which military regulation is that?"
Han Feng stood up, looking down on him. "I suspect you of intentionally delaying military supplies in an attempt to sabotage the city’s defenses."
Just then, the door to the general manager’s office on the second floor opened.
A balding, middle-aged man ran down frantically, followed by several assistants.
"Stop! Stop right there!"
The balding man was the top boss here, President Wang. He was usually quite a figure, with connections to many powerful people in the Inner City.
He rushed in front of Han Feng, initially planning to pull rank, but when he saw the expressionless, company-grade officers behind Han Feng, and the major’s insignia on the shoulder of Han Feng’s A Level training uniform, his imposing manner immediately deflated by half.
"Officer, we can talk this out. How can you just hit people?"
President Wang said, wiping away his sweat. "This is a misunderstanding, a complete misunderstanding."
Han Feng glanced at him, then wiped his bloody hand on the fat man’s suit.
"You’re the one in charge?"
"My name is Wang Qiang. I’m the general manager of this center."
Wang Qiang forced a smile. "Officer, even if Xiaoliu did something wrong, you could have filed a complaint. Using corporal punishment is against the rules..."
"Rules?"
Han Feng sneered and pulled a red ID booklet from his pocket, flashing it in front of the man’s face.
"Right now, I suspect you have a mole from the Blood Feeding Sect here."
Wang Qiang was so scared he nearly fell to his knees.
"What?
Officer, you can’t just say things like that!
We’re a legitimate subsidiary of a state-owned enterprise!"
"Legitimate?"
Han Feng pointed at the fat man on the floor. "’Project Tinder’ is the Parliament’s highest-level strategic deployment, designed to deal with the world-ending crisis a decade from now.
Every single minute and every single second is critical to the survival of all humanity."
"I came to pick up goods with a special approval slip, and not only does this fatso refuse, he makes things difficult for me, using some bullshit reason about font formats to obstruct me."
Han Feng took a step forward, staring intently into Wang Qiang’s eyes.
"If it wasn’t to cooperate with an Evil Cult and delay our war preparations, I can’t think of any other reason why a warehouse manager would dare to obstruct an SSS Level project."
"Or... was this on your orders, President Wang?"
The accusation was too great.
Great enough to crush a man to death.
Being involved with an Evil Cult and obstructing "Project Tinder" were crimes that would get you beheaded. It was something that would land you in a military tribunal!
The color instantly drained from Wang Qiang’s face, and his calves began to cramp.
"No, no, no! Absolutely not!"
Wang Qiang shook his head like a rattle-drum. "I knew nothing about this!
This was all this fatso’s own doing!"
He turned and kicked the fat man on the ground viciously.
"You bastard! Who told you to hold up military supplies? Are you trying to get me killed?"
After kicking the fat man, Wang Qiang immediately roared at his assistants:
"Quick! Get all the materials Advisor Han needs!
Load them up with priority!
If you can’t get it done in ten minutes, all of you can pack your bags and get the hell out!"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
The assistants scurried away in terror.
Han Feng watched this scene and nodded in satisfaction.
"It seems President Wang has some sense after all."
Han Feng clapped Wang Qiang on the shoulder. "I was a bit impulsive just now. But at a critical juncture like this, it’s better to kill the wrong person than to let one slip by. Wouldn’t you agree?"
Wang Qiang felt the hand on his shoulder was as heavy as a mountain, and cold sweat trickled down his cheeks.
"Yes, yes, yes. Advisor Han’s lesson is well-taught. It was our failure to do our jobs properly."
In less than five minutes, a heavy truck, fully loaded with the materials Han Feng needed, was parked at the entrance.
Han Feng tossed the crowbar back into the vehicle and left with his men in tow.
He left behind a hall in complete disarray and the fat man still groaning on the floor.
...
For the next two hours, the material supplier circles of East Sea City experienced an earthquake.
Han Feng, leading the Garrison Army, swept through the suppliers on his list, "visiting" them one by one.
It didn’t matter if you were a relative of some chaebol, nor did it matter how strong your connections were.
If anyone dared to say "no" or tried to bring up procedures, Han Feng got physical immediately.
For minor offenses, he’d flip tables and trash offices. For more serious ones, he’d drag the person in charge out for a public session of "physical persuasion."
Someone tried to call the police, but when the responding City Guard Army saw it was the Garrison Army, and the legendary "Mad Han" at that, they turned a blind eye. They even helped maintain order.
The news spread through the Inner City as if it had wings.
Parliament Building, Office of the Speaker.
Ye Daoyuan put down his teacup and listened to his secretary’s report.
"Mr. Speaker, the complaint lines are about to be blown up."
The secretary gave a wry smile. "The heads of several subsidiaries under the Celestial Craft Group are saying Han Feng is lawless, acting like a warlord, and they’re demanding severe punishment."
"Did he kill anyone?"
Ye Daoyuan asked lightly.
"No, not at all. Mostly just superficial injuries, plus a few who were scared enough to piss their pants."
Ye Daoyuan smiled, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked out at the neon lights that were gradually lighting up the city.
"Then let him be."
"But..."
"No buts."
Ye Daoyuan’s voice turned a little cold. "’Project Tinder’ has been underway for half a month, and I’ve heard the rumors.
Some people are still operating with the same bureaucratic style from peacetime. They even want to take this opportunity to line their own pockets and trade favors."
"This fire Han Feng has started is a good thing."
"Extraordinary times call for harsh measures.
Some people’s heads aren’t clear. They think the reason I haven’t moved against them is because I haven’t seen what they’re doing.
Letting a hothead like Han Feng go and wake them up is also a good thing."
Ye Daoyuan turned and waved his hand dismissively.
"Tell our people, as long as no one dies and there’s no treason involved, suppress any issues that come from the Garrison Army’s side."
"Yes, sir." The secretary took his leave.
...
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